


Ante

by Trismegistus (Lebateleur)



Category: Saiyuki Gaiden
Genre: Bureaucracy, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-21 23:29:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6062154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lebateleur/pseuds/Trismegistus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A seduction in third person limited narrative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ante

Kenren was good at doing a good many things. Fighting was among them. Drinking was among them. Causing general raucous mayhem - was definitely among them. But to his credit, he was smart enough to realize when he'd overstepped his bounds. A letter of transfer from the Eastern Army was definitely enough to clue him in. So he decided to cool it down for a while. Stop making scenes just for the hell of it. Stop running his mouth off in front of his superiors. Hell, time to stop questioning his superiors at all. So when Tempou Gensui had dropped to his knees in front of Kenren and proceeded to suck Kenren's cock, Kenren said nothing. After all, it was widely known that the Field Marshall was a man of strange tastes. 

Which worked out in the end, because Kenren was a man of simple tastes, and after the first brief moment of novelty had worn off, he had decided that it didn't matter _who_ was sucking his cock as long as that person knew what they were doing and it felt good.

Tempou knew what he was doing. And it felt very, very good.

So that was pretty much how he'd ended up spending most nights with the Field Marshall. More or less. There had been a little more to it than that. 

He had thought, at first, that being assigned to the Western Army was perhaps the most effective punishment that could have been meted out to him. The Eastern Army had been _swinging_ \- bars, women, sake. More women. (And then, eventually, the _wrong_ woman.) The Western Army was everything that the Eastern was not - orderly, regulated, obsessed with protocol. And as for Tempou Gensui, his superior? This bespectacled, soft-spoken, scatterbrained, history _nerd_ was going to be his boss? Well, the guy seemed decent enough. And he smoked. That had to mean he couldn't be all bad. Just nice and scholarly and...boring. Everything that would have made him a very attractive candidate for Field Marshall, as far as some people in Heaven were concerned.

Except. Except that that didn't exactly square away with the rumors he'd heard about the Western Army's Tempou Gensui. At any rate, after he'd talked to the guy for a little while, he got the feeling that he was a pretty cool dude, overall. He just didn't know whether he wanted Tempou for a commander.

Later, when he'd had the chance to witness the Marshall in action, he'd revised his earlier opinions somewhat. Tempou certainly knew what he was doing on the battlefield. But a guy could be amazing in combat and useless everywhere else, so again, you just didn't know for certain.

Still, after he'd been there for a few weeks, settled in a little, met some more of the guys in his unit, he figured Tempou certainly was the best bet out of the lot of them. He could have a conversation with the Marshall, which was more than he could say for a lot of the grunts in the Western Army. Tempou didn't really drink, as far as he could tell, but he could still drop in and share a smoke with the guy, and that was nice. And if you occasionally had to put up with Tempou's strange personal habits and odd requests, well, that just came with the territory, he supposed. 

As did paperwork. Lots of paperwork. There was all _kinds_ of paperwork to be processed in the Western Army, and apparently someone on the top really thought that Tempou should be the guy to do it. Which meant that if you hung out with the Marshall with any amount of regularity, you ended up doing quite a bit of paperwork yourself. 

"Agh," he said one evening, shoving a pile of documents across the desk in disgust. "I'm sick of this crap."

"Mmm," Tempou had responded, idly flipping a page and running his eyes over its contents. "But," he'd continued in an upbeat sort of way, "as we find ourselves stuck doing it, we might as well try our best to-."

"What? Enjoy it?"

"Oh, not necessarily that, Kenren. I was thinking more along the lines of relish it. I find that doing useless paperwork on a regular basis allows me to nurture a more intense hatred of the bureaucracy which will, one day, no doubt come in useful."

He'd laughed aloud at that one. "You'd better watch yourself, Field Marshall," he'd said, lighting up another smoke. "You never know who might be interested to hear that you think so."

"Oh? I'm not particularly concerned." He flipped another page. "After all, I don't voice such opinions to just anyone." Flip. Another page. And then he looked up and met Kenren's gaze, and there had been a glint of...not _challenge_ , exactly, but Kenren got the feeling he was being tested somehow. Oh, this was definitely interesting. 

He'd thought the Western Army would be no fun. Well, it was fun. Just not in immediately recognizable ways.

 _Alright, wiseass,_ he'd thought. _Let's see if I can't match you._

"Who said I was talking about myself? The walls have ears, don't they say?"

"Ah, point taken." 

They both paused, lit up more smokes, and worked through more papers. Still, it didn't take long for Kenren's amusement to fade. This crap was so boring. _It actually,_ Tempou had told him earlier, on a similar night, _functions nicely as a metaphor for Heaven on the whole, doesn't it?_

_Yeah,_ Kenren thought, _Heaven is a pretty fucking boring place._ The thing with Heaven was that _everybody_ was bored with it. And everybody had their stuff that they did to relieve the boredom. Most people gossiped. About the same number actually plotted. And then there were the people who were into...other...things. The way Kenren saw it, the people who got into the army, they had the most normal tastes of any of them. Give your everyday soldier a bottle to drink, an enemy to fight, a woman to screw and he'd go away a satisfied man. People in the army, you knew what made them happy. None of this whispering in dark alleys bullshit, or doing things to other people that no one talked about in any sort of company, polite or otherwise. Army people were simple people. 

Needless to say, paper pushing was not the sort of thing he got off on. And while Kenren found Tempou's dedication admirable, _he_ couldn't help but think of all the things he'd rather be doing. 

"Taishou, if you keep sighing like that, I fear you'll rob the room of oxygen."

"Yeah, well, I can't help it," he'd said. "If I may speak my mind, Sir?"

Something in Tempou's eyes flashed at the overly official language. "Feel free."

"This _sucks_."

"Mm. And what do you propose to do about that fact, General?"

"Standard Celestial Military Protocol states that an inferior officer is duty bound to assist his superior in any and all matters, both on the field of battle and off, that his superior deems as being worthy of assistance. Therefore-"

"I did not ask what pearls of wisdom Standard Celestial Military Protocol had to offer in this instance, General. I asked what Kenren Taishou would do."

"Ah?" He leaned back in his chair, propped one foot against the edge of the desk and considered. "In this instance, I believe Kenren Taishou would go and get drunk, and leave your sorry ass to finish this crap on your own."

Tempou smiled slightly. "Is that so?"

He adopted a vaguely pensive expression and appeared to consider. "I believe it is." And with that he stood up and left the Field Marshall to do what he would with his thrice-cursed paperwork. Although he would have been perfectly within his rights to do so, Tempou did not call him back to the desk.

But as he headed for the door he could feel Tempou's eyes on his back, speculating.

In any case he was back in there the next night. And Tempou had ever so thoughtfully left his unfinished paperwork for him right where he'd abandoned it the evening before.

"So you'd have no trouble finding it," the Field Marshall had told him.

Kenren knew when he'd been outmaneuvered. And besides, he'd sworn up and down that he was _not_ going to mouth off to his superiors, not until he got back into the military's good graces. Hell, it was cool that Tempou let him get away with as much as he did. He wasn't going to spoil that. So he sat down and pulled the next sheet from the top of the pile down in front of him. 

That thought did sort of put things into perspective. This bureaucratic shit sucked, that was a fact. But there was more to Tempou Gensui that first met the eye. That was also a fact. Tempou looked like a bookish history buff, he looked harmless. Kenren had thought that that was the reason he'd been made a Field Marshall to begin with. He'd thought Tempou Gensui was a puppet.

Of course, he'd been completely wrong. Tempou had gotten to where he was because he was a dangerous bastard. And the people who hadn't realized that in time, who had gotten in his way, probably never knew what had hit 'em. 

Well, he'd apparently made the grade. Which was cool, because when he thought about it, Kenren would rather be accountable to someone like Tempou than the other brass in Heaven's armies. Tempou let a guy get away with shit. Appreciated the fact that you tried, even. He was probably just as bored by this place as Kenren was.

The was an abrupt scrape of wood on wood as Tempou pushed his chair back from the desk, got up, retrieved another ashtray from his room, put it down beside Kenren's papers. "Hey, thanks," Kenren said. 

"Not at all."

He reached for another paper, not even bothering to look the movement was so mechanical, and found nothing. "No shit? Are we actually done?" 

"Difficult though it may be to believe, Taishou, we are indeed finished." 

"Am I fucking glad to hear _that_."

"You do have the ability to be a dedicated worker, when the mood strikes you," Tempou said. Light reflected on the lenses of his glasses, making his eyes unreadable.

"Yeah," he answered, got up and headed toward the door. If paperwork was the price he had to pay for past indiscretions, well, it could have been a lot worse. "I bitch about the stupid shit, sure, but I try not to piss off the people my career depends on. Call it my philosophy on life." 

A pause. "And I suppose fucking the wife of your direct superior was a natural expression of this philosophy?" 

Kenren felt a dangerous smile spread across his lips. "Watch it, Tempou. _She_ came on to _me_." 

"Oh," said Tempou. "Is that all it takes?" 

And that was when he had dropped to his knees in front of Kenren, unzipped Kenren's pants, and put Kenren's dick into his mouth. 

Kenren was a difficult man to shock. After all, shocking was what _he_ excelled at doing. But even though the thought going through his mind at that moment was _holyfuckwhatthehellisgoingonhere?_ he couldn't just let Tempou raise the stakes like that and then _leave_ it, so he felt he had to say something. 

"Well, it didn't happen _quite_ like this, but yeah..." - and here he gasped - "... you've definitely ... got ... the general ... idea." 

Evidently it met with approval because Tempou had smiled around his...mouthful...making Kenren's brain short circuit for a moment, and it was precisely at that point that Kenren had decided he was pretty much okay with anyone sucking him off as long as that anyone was as good at it as Tempou was. 

"It might help, General," said Tempou, pausing for a moment, "if you put your hips into it a little more." 

_Oh you bastard._ Kenren did not want to put his hips into it any more than he already _was_ , because that would spoil the view. And it was such a _nice_ view at that - Tempou's hand around the base of his cock, head tilted to one side, eyes closed, his expression blissful, engrossed in his work. 

But he gave an experimental little buck, and that was all Tempou needed to get back to business. He let him work for a little while, and then, 

"Hey, Tempou," he managed to get out around gasps, "Hold on for a minute, will ya?" 

Tempou opened his eyes and looked up. 

Kenren smiled, extracted a hand from where it had twisted into Tempou's greasy hair. "Thanks," he said, and removed Tempou's glasses. 

_Now_ he had a view. He tangled both hands back into that thick, dark hair, and after that it was just Tempou's elegantly arched eyebrows and perfect little mouth and his cock sliding in and out of those warm, soft, wet lips. 

Tempou's hands reached around behind him, cupping, kneading, setting a pace for him as he worked. Tempou's tongue was everywhere at once, sliding down to his base, curling around the middle, playing across his tip. He was drawing great, gasping breaths and then sparks started to dance at the corners of his vision. 

"There?" Tempou murmured, his voice sending maddening little vibrations down Kenren's shaft. "Oh, and there too?"

"Yes, 'there too,' you little bastard," he heard himself gasp, and then the world went into a tailspin and everything was hot and frantic and ecstatic. 

Tempou gently disengaged himself from Kenren's grip and leaned back on his haunches, ran his tongue over his lips. Kenren watched, dazed, then zipped himself back up, and slid, panting, down against the wall. "That..." he ventured, then waited for his breath to return and tried again, "That was pretty damn good."

"Yes. It was, wasn't it?" Tempou answered in a contemplative fashion. 

_Fuck you,_ Kenren wanted to respond, but the Field Marshall truly appeared to have meant it. _Tempou Gensui, Ladies and Gentlemen,_ Kenren thought, _A man of strange tastes._

_Not_ that he minded. 

He drew another faltering breath, then grinned at the Field Marshall, who smiled back. Yes, the Western Army was _not_ a boring place. At all.

A sudden knock on the door startled him and he got to his feet, cursing softly. Tempou was already up and moving across the room. He heard the Marshall's voice as he opened the door, bid good evening to whomever was there, and then, "Kenren?"

"Yeah?" he said, hoping he sounded bored. Dreadfully bored.

"Kenren Taishou? If I could speak with you for a moment?" This from whoever it was at the door.

"Yeah, that's me," he said, and headed over.

A junior officer stood at the door, clerical services, if the uniform gave any indication. He stared at Kenren, barely attempting to conceal his interest. _So **you're** the lech that got booted out of the Eastern Army_ was written all over his face. Obviously Kenren's reputation had proceeded him to the support staff offices as well. 

"Kenren Taishou, we need your authorization for the release of a few more forms. Medical history, training records..." his voice trailed off. Kenren nodded, and then the page continued, "I'm sorry to disturb you, Field Marshall." This in a more polite tone. "It will only take a moment." 

"Don't trouble yourself. We were, in fact, finished for the evening."

The messenger nodded at the dismissal it obviously was, then motioned for Kenren to follow. Tempou had retreated back into the room and was currently leaning against a bookshelf, thumbing through the pages of some oversized manual on small forces tactics. "Have a good evening, Taishou, Private," he murmured vaguely as Kenren and the messenger headed toward the door.

"Hey, Marshall," Kenren tossed over his shoulder. "Got any more paperwork you need help with tomorrow?"

"Hmm? No, not particularly. But stop by anyway. I'm sure I can find something to keep you occupied."

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in spring 2002.


End file.
